


One Hundred Words about Maedhros

by Himring



Series: Gloom, Doom and Maedhros [66]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Character Study, Cultural Differences, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Love, M/M, Time - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himring/pseuds/Himring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles in my "Doom, Gloom and Maedhros" series.<br/>So far, all Maedhros/Fingon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tactless Reminder

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't added to this little collection in a while and recently discovered that I don't seem to have uploaded it to AO3 yet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time, alcohol, love, certainty.

He has been careful with alcohol for centuries; the risk of blurting out the wrong truth at the wrong moment is too high. Love can engender a similar range of symptoms, though—and so he finds himself helplessly clutching at Findekano and exhorting him with the earnestness of a drunkard: _One whole night! We need to make it count. We need to be making the best of it we can._

What a lapse! But Findekano—bless him for his certainties, how can he be so sure of things?—just grips him even harder and murmurs: _We already are. We are._


	2. Chained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros after midnight.   
> Dealing with memory.

 He wakes and finds himself in a constricted space, unable to move his arms. Are they tied?

His nerves scream a warning: _Don’t!_ Convulsively, he inhales and warns himself again, carefully, deliberately: _Don’t lash out, until you know where you are_.

Clean air.  A pillow underneath his head.  A familiar presence, stirring.  A weight lifts off his chest.  The constriction eases. His arms are free.

A beloved voice asking, worried: ‘What is it?’

He cannot see anything, but that is only because there is no light.

‘Nothing’, he says firmly, reaches out and draws Findekano’s arm back across his chest.


	3. Unchained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with Memories.  
> Fingon's POV

‘You are getting rather good at this, you know,’ he says, teasing me gently for my enthusiasm, conscious that he himself is not—not always.

Sometimes, in the midst of things, a little shudder will run through him, the wrong kind. His muscles tense, in the wrong sort of way. His expression, for a moment, goes blank.

He pushes his forehead against my shoulder in mute apology. I hold him as lightly as I can, resting my fingertips between his shoulder blades, until his body responds to my touch again.

And so he allows me a part in this, also.


	4. Fingon on Greed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mixing observations on cultural differences and romance.

_Fingon to Maedhros:_

Like you, I was raised to abundance and taught the virtue of abstention. _Always refuse the second helping._ And even on the Ice, if I starved more than others, I did so by choice, saving food for those who were weaker. _Royalty imposes its obligations._

When we arrived in Beleriand, I was startled to see Sindarin hunters gorging themselves on venison. They, however, were puzzled by my astonishment.

‘There may be no game tomorrow’, they explained, reasonably.

So let me be greedy tonight, beloved, for both our sakes, for do we not both fear there will be no game tomorrow?


	5. Every Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fingon has rescued his cousin Maedhros from Thangorodrim--their thoughts on the subject of obligation and gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short monologues (a bit like a duet, although obviously there is no music), rather than a dialogue.

**Maedhros:**  
  
I am beholden to you in every breath I take. They call me ungrateful--do not know I battle to keep breathing.  
Although you cut me free, I am tied, might sink under the weight of my obligation, but choose the tie that holds me up and breathe for you.  
  
 **Fingon:**  
  
 _Were you but free! I saved you at great cost, yet ask no recompense but this: keep breathing.  You lean too lightly against me, let me hold you up! Let who will talk of ingratitude--I will deny all obligation and be beholden to you for every breath you take._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a LOTR Community drabble challenge on LJ on the subject of gratitude. The prompt was: beholden.
> 
> Word count: 100 (2 x 50) according to Word.

**Author's Note:**

> These are true drabbles (100 words by MS Word).  
> Also, drabble sequences that relate to the series will be posted separately.


End file.
